Dawn Endeavor 4: Gunnar's Game (6 page)

She nodded. “Mom and Dad are still kicking. And they'd be pissed as hell to know Grayson's sending messages when he shouldn't be. I'm not a telepath.”

“Thank God.”

“And I don't want to be one.” She glared at Tersch. “I can't imagine what goes on in what you call a brain.”

His fear of hurting her slowly receded under her irritation. Ah. There was the Ava he knew and lo—liked. He grinned; he couldn't help it. She was so cute when annoyed.

“Grayson is in trouble. He's in DC working on something for a friend of ours.

And the shit just hit the fan.”

“How so?”

Ava frowned. “I'm not sure. He sent a ton of images and words into my head that I'm still trying to piece together. But he needs my help. He never would have sent me the info, knowing it would hurt me, if he hadn't been desperate.”

“Well, hell. We're going to need to talk to your grandmother about this.” She sighed. “I know.” Ava didn't look like she had plans to move from his bed, though. “Can I ask you something?”

He answered, wary. “Sure.”

“Do you like games?”

He blinked. “Games?”

“Yeah. Do you?”

“I guess so. I like to have fun.” Though normally his idea of fun involved beating the shit out of some dickhead deserving it.

“I do too.” The sly look that passed over his body and centered on the bulge under his jeans unnerved him. “Let's play a game, Gunnar.”

“Ava…” His voice left him when she trailed her fingers down her body, past her breasts and belly to her crotch. Her hand hovered there before she slowly unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts.
It’s like the woman is reading my fantasies.

Holy shit. Am I awake?

“You see, you got me all worked up and left me high and dry. You claim to have perfect control. Let's test that, hmm?”

“Not a good idea,” he rasped, his gaze glued to her fingers delving beneath her panties visible underneath her zipper. “Oh, fuck.” He could see the outline of her fingers under the cotton, and the corresponding pleasure on her face clearly showed him what she was doing.

“I need it. I don't have mating heats, but sometimes the desire for sex is there all the same.” She bit her lower lip as she worked her fingers over her clit.

He could smell her desire, and it was all he could do not to rip her shorts off and shove his face in her pussy.

“I'm so wet,” she said on a breath as she rubbed herself. “I'm close to coming already.”

“Me too,” he admitted, mesmerized by what he couldn't exactly see. The hint of movement under her pink panties, over her cunt, tantalized. She was so sexy, not showing him skin while giving him an erotic tease he'd never forget.

He wasn't sure when he'd unbuttoned his trousers. He shoved his hand down his pants and grabbed his shaft. It was either that or let her do it, and he wouldn't touch her again. He couldn't without completely losing it.

“Mmm, you smell so good.” She moaned and increased the motion of her hand between her legs. “Like cedar and sex. I bet you could slide right up into me right now. No pain, only a full, throbbing stretch as you take me.”

“Yeah, full.” He pulled on his cock, jerking up and down, faster and faster. The oil over his dick made it too easy to bring himself off. The more excited he was, the more lube. And Tersch could have poked a hole through a steel wall with his erection.

“That's it. One finger inside me,” she said softly as she angled her hips up.

“Now two.”

“Put another in. Stretch yourself wide. For me,” his beast demanded.

She licked her lips and groaned, and he could see himself guiding his cock to her wet folds, could imagine the heat and the scent of her as he finally claimed her.

He widened his stance and rubbed so hard and so fast he neared his climax too soon. But Ava beat him to it. She threw back her head and cried out as she drenched the room in her scent. So fucking beautiful.

Tersch lost it.

He groaned as he spewed, coming hard all over his belly and hand. Loads of cum that should have been in the slight female writhing on his bed. Instead, he made do with his hand, squeezing his orgasm from his ruddy shaft.

“You're so pretty,” Ava growled, her beast there in the depth of her voice and the hint of fangs touching her lower lip. “So big. I wonder what you'll feel like inside me.”

“Not gonna happen.” His hoarse response caused her to smile.

She rose from the bed and straightened her shorts. Ava stared at his half-hard cock now covered with cum and nodded. “Oh yeah, we're going to happen soon, Gunnar. I'll play your games now, but in the end, I intend to win.” He had the strangest sense she meant what she said. A woman stalking Frederik Gunnar Tersch? “Baby, I can eat you for breakfast.”

She approached until she stood right in front of him. “Why wait for breakfast?” She lifted a finger and rimmed his mouth.

The scent and taste of her cream turned him inside out. Before she could draw her hand away, he grabbed it and took her finger into his mouth. He closed his eyes and sucked, his beast and berserker both rolling in delight as they absorbed the scent of his mate. When he couldn't take another taste without fucking her good and hard, Tersch pulled her finger from his mouth.

“You keep pushing, you won't like what you find.”

“Baby, you don't know the meaning of the word 'push.'” Ava chuckled and had the nerve to tuck him back into his trousers. The feel of her hand on his cock brought out his berserker.

In a flash, he put his hand to her throat and squeezed, warning his mate to understand her place. “Let me go before I hurt you. Because I want nothing more than to hear you scream,” he warned, shaky and trying to tamp down his hormones.

He forced himself to let her go but didn't step away. Neither did she, and his berserker smiled at her fearlessness.

“Promises, promises,” she said and drew her hand from his cock. She licked his cum from her fingers and winked. “I'll see you later, big guy. Try to get some rest and dream of me.” Ava pranced away, flaunting that tight, round ass at him, like waving a red flag at an angry bull.

He took a step in her direction.

Fortunately, Ava left his room and closed the door behind her. He missed her the moment she left. But aside from pining for the woman he couldn't have, he felt a huge wave of unease. Ava had sounded as if she expected to have him in the end.

And that would spell disaster.

The uncanny woman had a knack for getting under his skin. His eyes nearly crossed at the thought of tasting more than her arousal off her fingertips. He could too easily imagine going down on her, eating her out until she cried his name, then fucking her so hard they saw stars.

He grimaced down at his painful erection and stripped. Heading for his shower—which was what he'd initially come back to the room to do—he stepped into the stall and let the cold water flow. But it did nothing to stem his arousal, especially when he heard a few hoarse shouts from his team caught up in their mates.

Gunnar jerked himself off twice more before he found a measure of peace. He fell asleep in his bed, awash in her scent.

For the first time in a long time, he slept like the dead. But he dreamed of Ava, all the same.

Lonnie shot up in bed, covered in sweat. The dreams had come again. Blurred images of death, torment, and the ultimate prize out of reach. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, glad he'd at least woken alone. The sound of a shower told him Melissa hadn't yet left his hotel room. Arriving hours earlier, the annoying bitch had whined and complained, but at least she'd agreed to suck him off so he could catch some sleep.

Melissa defined the ideal of a wet dream. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, full, pretty tits, and a tight cunt that could wring him dry with ease. Unfortunately, her constant clinginess was wearing thin.

When they'd first met, he'd seen her instant response and had been glad of it.

He considered himself an attractive man, but he knew what had really drawn her to him. Power. Lonnie could manipulate psychic energy as easily as he'd influenced his peers and superiors in his long trip up the political ladder. Now he had more than mental strength, but the position in Washington to do great and terrible things.

A chance meeting with Jack Keiser had convinced him Melissa would be the key to giving Lonnie the edge he needed. Jack had been perfect. A spotless record with the government, the instincts of a deadly hunter, and the psychic status as one of the Psychic Warfare Program's—the PWP's—best new recruits. A few blasts of Lonnie's psychic energy, and he'd convinced Jack that Jack and Melissa had married. Quite a coup, because not only had Lonnie been able to keep tabs on the Circs, but he'd had firsthand knowledge of how Jack worked in the field.

Lonnie rubbed his fingers together, pleased at the fiery tingle they produced.

When Melissa stepped out of the bathroom, her hair damp, clad in a towel, she stopped at the sight of him.

He spread his naked thighs, aroused at the thought of controlling her once more. Melissa had such strong shields. Taking them down, brick by painful brick, aroused him to no end. “Come here.”

She smiled, no doubt thinking herself in love. Selfish, vain, and needy, Melissa Ramirez was just his type of woman. He didn't bother hiding his physical response to her beauty as she drew close. “On your knees, my dear.” She knelt before him.

“I think next time we'll bring Grayson in to join our fun.” He knew how much she loathed anything related to the Circs.

She frowned at him, and he touched her right between the eyes. He concentrated a blast of manipulation, and her frown eased.

“Whatever you want, lover.”

“Yes, whatever I want,” he repeated. He looked to the nightstand. “Get me the lube.”

Melissa blanched. “But I thought—”

“Do it.”

He could tell she tried to fight the compulsion, but she couldn't. Her fear felt delightfully thick as it settled over him.

“That's it.” He watched her return with the tube in hand. “Now spread it over me. All over me.”

She did, and he swelled, so excited. Fucking Melissa's ass degraded her. She hated it, absolutely hated it because she loved it, thanks to some delightfully dysfunctional drama in her past. It had become his favorite way to take her, and a way to punish her for enjoying Jack Keiser so much. Though he'd ordered her to feign a life with Jack, he'd never intended her to enjoy the man's clumsy attentions.

As he took her hard, forgoing any foreplay, he enjoyed the snug feel of her ass around his cock and dissociated his emotion from the act. He thought about what he had planned for Dawn Endeavor, and in particular, Alicia Sharpe.

It had taken a lot of time and effort, but he now counted her among his arsenal of weapons. With every meeting and every slight touch, he drew her deeper and deeper into his web. Unfortunately, it had taken longer than he'd anticipated bringing her to heel.

The woman infuriated him, because he knew the truth about her. What he wouldn't give to have so much power. And none of it had been artificially manufactured. The woman had been born with magic. An anomaly even among psychics, Alicia Sharpe had lived far longer than anyone he'd ever met. A fact he'd only found out due to a freak coincidence. Imagine his father having a photograph of the woman from thirty years earlier looking exactly the same. For once, his father's devotion to South American causes had come in handy.

Not only had Sharpe helped his father take care of some illiterate villagers in the remote jungle, she'd introduced him to the notorious Elliot Pearl, founder of the Circe serum and all-around mad scientist. Another piece that fit the puzzle, since Lonnie had learned from Pearl that a woman matching Sharpe's description had given him the kernel of the idea to develop the serum. Through trial and error and a mysterious sample of mutated blood—Alicia's blood—Elliot had revolutionized genetic manipulation. And the Circs were born.

From that, the PWP had sprung. What Lonnie had convinced himself would be a way to leap ahead several steps to success had actually turned into a problem.

The damned PWP had become viable, and he spent as much time shielding his activities as he did working the system.

Frustrated and annoyed that things weren't going the way he'd intended, he pushed himself harder inside the malleable woman beneath him. He came hard, but the climax left him wanting. Melissa enjoyed it too much.

“Lonnie.” She moaned his name again when he pulled out, conflicted by shame and enjoyment, that familiar look of chagrin on her pretty face.

Annoyed with her, he had no intention of letting her come. “I'm so sorry, my dear. I just realized I have something urgent awaiting me. We'll take this up again the next time you're in town.” A not so subtle way of making her leave.

“And I just took a shower. I guess I'll head in again—”

“No. I'm afraid you'll have to go
now
.” He raised a brow when she tried to argue.

“But I'm—”

He interrupted again. “You're what? A whore who enjoys a fat cock up her ass?

Yes, you are. So you should wear your shame home. Let it soak into your panties and remind you where you belong.”

At the word
belong
she subsided. “Yes, Lonnie.” So incredibly easy to maneuver. Melissa no longer provided a challenge. A pity, but she'd soon have to go.

He sighed. “I do look forward to our next meeting. Now out you go.” She quickly dressed and left without another word. The cow. He hurried into the bathroom and showered, eager to rid himself of her stench. Cleaning himself, he put into plan a new course of action, one that would certainly benefit him in the long run. And maybe he'd find out where the hell Jack Keiser was hiding. A loose end he definitely needed to tie up on the off chance the bastard knew more than Melissa had said.

Lonnie whistled under the hot spray, knowing he wouldn't dream anymore tonight. Melissa had been good for one thing at least.

* * *

Ava stared at her grandmother the next day, dreading this meeting. Alicia had called everyone into her office. The spacious conference room a few doors down would have better served everyone, but her grandmother preferred her cozy space.